Scars and Comparison
by CocoaPuppiez
Summary: Daryl returns from his walker-slaying routine to a curious Carol whom realized the two not only had emotional comparisons, but physical as well. Very mild sexual themes. This particular fic was written for a close friend Brandy. c:


In the heat of the new day, Daryl stood outside the prison gates clearing off some of the roamers that had curiously laid their eyes on the group. Arrow by arrow, he shot each of them down with a clean bulls eye, retrieving the arrow from each corpse he had slayed. The blazing sun shined down heavily on his sweat ridden back, causing him to squint his eyes and wipe his forehead off with a rag he carried. After clearing out the walkers, he decided to take a nice break inside the prison and cool down.

* * *

From a short distance away stood Carol, gazing at Daryl as he strolled back up to the main prison entrance. She looked all over him for any sign of cut, bruise, or bite, and to her luck, she didn't find any as he came closer. Carol hurried to the gate and lugged it open with a heave, letting the exhausted man back inside. Daryl looked her straight in the eyes, and too tired to say a word, he spit at the ground near her and continued walking. Carol looked his way as he walked towards the prison, and soon followed like a duckling lovingly follows it's mother.

* * *

Daryl took a fast, swift step inside and to his relief; a breeze of cool, thin air came his way, brushing him in the face and making some of the sweat drop down his face. Carol enjoyed the feeling as well, only slightly less pleased because of the looks she was giving him while he was working. Daryl had on a flimsy, torn up tank-top that Rick had found for the group not a long while ago. The garment barely covered any of Daryl's skin, only making Carol blush more when she set her eyes upon his beautiful body. Only in a moment's time, Daryl had found his way to the stair-case, propping himself upon one of the single steps. The quiet and calming sound of only footsteps in the room caused Daryl to begin to relax, seeing as Carol and he we're the only ones in this part of the building.

For a few awkward minutes, Carol took her time to look for anything to help Daryl relieve his pain and tense body. She found a dirty towel ridden with blood from previous attacks, a small bowl of soup, and a book that she herself had previously read in the long, boring days of the apocalypse.

_ "None of this will work." _Carol thought to herself as she was scanning the items. _"Maybe they'll please him some."_ She thought to herself again. As she began walking over to Daryl, he lifted his head up slightly to see her. He gave no sign of pleasure, happiness, or satisfaction. Carol knew as much that he wouldn't enjoy these things, he even had his own rag! Carol felt a little silly and went back to her spot, setting everything down.

Once Carol sat back down, she directed her eyes to Daryl once again. His hands we're rough and covered in hard, thick calluses. Each finger had either a blotch of dirt or blood on it, which slightly made Carol more attracted to his work effort. In her spare time she enjoyed comparing herself to him, in hope of finding any resemblance to love in any way shape or form. She knew something was there, but Daryl was so stubborn he definitely wasn't going to show it anytime soon.

Carol's eyes had finally laid on her own hands. They we're almost perfect. In contrast to Daryl's hands, Carol's we're bright, soft, and clean. She sighed at the realization of her own work effort and looked down. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head of a time long ago. When Sophia was a child and she was tired or crying, Carol would give Sophia a back massage to relieve her of any pain. Carol was particularly good at this, considering when Ed was still alive, that was one of his high demands. She slowly stood up and made her way over to Daryl.

Once she began to get closer, Daryl looked up again at her and gave a solemn nod. Carol accepted this nod and sat next to him on the step, looking at his rough body.

" You look like you need a massage. " Carol said, smiling a little to relieve tension. Since being outside, Daryl had obviously calmed down by giving a small laugh back to her. " Yeah. " He said, quietly.

Once Carol got approval, she motioned for him to turn his back towards her. He did willingly and Carol began to shake, noticing that she was about to lay her hands on Daryl. Slowly, she stretched her arms out and placed her small fingers on his shoulders. Daryl flinched a bit in pain when she did this, but soon relaxed his shoulders in preparation for his massage. Carol began moving her hands gracefully, squeezing in parts she felt he was most tense, and rubbing in parts where it wasn't as drastic. Daryl scoffed a bit during some parts but yet again relaxed as her hands skimmed his entire back lovingly.

Carol herself believed she was liking it more than he was, only until she reached a point on his back where she halted her motions for a second. It was bumpy, like a huge mark or something had gotten caught in his shirt. To her curiosity, she lifted his tank-top up, only to reveal a tragic truth. His back was covered in brutal scars, some stretching all the way across his back up to his shoulders. Daryl, realizing that she had found his past, quickly shot around and yanked his body away from her. Carol felt awful for being so curious and quickly apologized. The room went back to it's stationary hush.

The two sat together on the steps in an awkward silence. Daryl was embarrassed to every extent, just as Carol was. She felt she had to apologize with more than words in some shape or form. Suddenly, an amazing idea came to her.

" Look. " She said. Daryl was hesitant to turn back around, but finally, slowly arched his body back over to her. He jumped a bit at the sight of Carol, almost shirtless, but then came to the realization she must have had when he saw the awful and painful scars that stretched across her arms, and chest. " Ed did this to me. We're alike. You aren't alone. " Carol said.

Daryl looked up to her, trying to avoid staring. She looked him straight back in the eyes and said, " It's okay if you look. I want you to see that you are not alone in any way, shape, or form. " Daryl didn't reply to her words, only adjusting himself slightly. Carol sighed and remembered how stubborn and shut-in he was, pulling her shirt back down. To her surprise, she recognized a rough hand placed against her arm as she was moving it back down. " Don't. " Daryl said to her.

Carol began to blush wildly as Daryl moved his head to her upper shoulder, nearing her neck. The largest scar was here, it puffed outwards with great intensity and had an odd, purple color to it. Daryl's lips we're soon placed on the scar, his heart racing fast as he reached for the next one. Carol gasped as his warm face brushed against her neck. She could feel every hair on his head and on his face, and looked down at him as he kissed the last scar on that portion of her body. Daryl lifted his head back up to Carol's level, and looked her in the eyes. " You aren't alone either. " He said.

Suddenly with a quick movement, Carol thrusted her body against Daryl and hugged him tightly. Daryl was a little slow to showing his affection back, but soon wrapped his arms around her small body. Carol pulled away from him and his arms fell back down to his knees. The two we're now even closer, face to face, almost touching noses. Carol leaned forward and did the one thing that they both had wanted for a very, agonizingly long time. Carol pressed her petite lips lightly against Daryl's, and his eyes shot wide open as if he had seen a walker right behind her that second. A second later, Daryl had slowly let his eyelids fall down and put his hand up to her head and wrapped her hair around his fingers. The two sat in the prison, enjoying each other's company embracingly and lovingly. The feeling of being alone, the awful recurring emotion of loneliness had fled the couple's bodies, only to be replaced with love and warm memories.


End file.
